When Lightning Struck Out

The baseball field behind Miller High was basically my second home. Not because I played—lol, no—but because Marcus practiced there every Tuesday and Thursday, and I'd convinced my friends that 'studying at the bleachers' was totally a thing. Which was how I ended up hiding behind a chain-link fence while Jordan, the actual bull of our sophomore class, cornered me near the dugout.

'You think you're slick, watching practice like that,' Jordan sneered, and I swear I could feel my soul exiting my body. 'Marcus doesn't even know you exist.'

The worst part? He wasn't wrong.

I spent the next week avoiding everyone, even skipping the baseball games. My dad finally found me in my room, staring at the ceiling while cable news droned in the background. 'You gonna tell me what's wrong, or am I supposed to guess?'

'Nothing,' I mumbled. Because admitting that my entire social life had imploded over a boy who didn't know my name? Nah.

Then came Friday night. The sky turned this weird purple-green color, the kind that means trouble. I was at the convenience store when the storm hit—rain so hard it felt like the sky was falling. Lightning crackled across the parking lot, and suddenly I was stuck inside with nowhere to go.

Marcus walked in, shaking water from his baseball cap like a wet dog.

'This weather is insane,' he said, grabbing a papaya from the fruit display. 'My coach says these help with cramps. You ever tried one?'

I stared at him. 'You're talking to me about papaya during a lightning storm?'

He laughed. Actually laughed. 'Why not? What else am I supposed to do?'

We ended up sitting on the floor of that convenience store for two hours, eating papaya with plastic spoons while the storm raged outside. He told me about how much pressure he felt being the star pitcher, how everyone expected him to be perfect. I told him about Jordan, about feeling invisible, about how I'd been watching practice from the bleachers because I was too scared to actually talk to him.

'Why didn't you just say hi?' he asked, and I realized I didn't have a good answer.

The storm cleared. We walked home together, and he held my hand—just platonically, but still. Monday at school, Jordan tried to mess with me again, and I just rolled my eyes. 'Marcus and I ate papaya together for two hours on Friday,' I said. 'What did you do?'

Jordan's face was priceless.

Sometimes the universe throws you a lightning strike in the form of a natural disaster and a weird fruit obsession. You just have to be brave enough to take it.